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"Stitches" manages to block Isurus' first strike with its arm-shield-- and avoids the others two attacks.
Jaxon jabs his sword-- but realizes the creature knows where he is, and it is not surprised by the attack.
Thus the creature avoids the first blow-- and, thanks to the cover from the stairs, it avoids the second blow, with its arm-shield.
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Seeing the creature do some devastating damage to Ogren, Alaric reaches out and heals his wounds. "Stay with us just a little longer little goblin."
Alaric raises his hand and rocks a small explosion on the creature
[spoiler=Status]
HP 26/26
AC 20 (22 w/ shield raised)
Resistance: Mental 2
Spells (1) 2/3
Focus Points 1/2
Hero Point 2/3
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Alaric heals the little goblin--
--while Samna tosses a shuriken that the 'Stitched-man' cannot block with his 'arm-shield', and the flying-star buries itself deep in the construct's head--
--snuffing out the enemy's life!
Samna's second shuriken nails the dead construct to the wall before it can crash to the ground.
Surprised by the victory, Samna drops her last shuriken...
You all look at one another, but the creature nailed to the wall does not even twitch a stitch anymore... it is over!
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Isurus imagines that such a solid creature would fetch good coin for someone wanting muscle that asks no questions.
Jaxon sees some markings on the broken crates beneath the stairs.
As you look around the cargo hold--
--you see some intact crates.
They all hold various pieces of furniture.
The two open doors lead to the front and the rear rooms of the ship.
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Ilmyrn falls out of his trance and immediately takes a knee, using his sword to prop him up as he clutches his chest.
In a pained expression he says “Damn, that always hurts.” It takes him a moment before he is able to straighten up, though for the next minute he seems Whaley and agitated, as if he is spiritually unbalanced. This doesn’t stop him from looking around though as he gathers his Javalin.
”These crates were likely made in Nex, you can tell by the construction. Not many people make crates like this. That would explain. . . Uh. . . Stitches over there. Nex is known for making flesh-like humanoid. . . Things. Not sure of the name, I never delved deep into arcane studies. Ah, see, I was right, the Nexian shipping manifest, right here. Dated a few months ago, clearly after this ship sank. I guess the-ow-the rumors were true, smugglers were using this ship as a hidey-hole.”
Ilmyrn strains at his wounds and sits down on one of the sturdier looking crates to take a breather.
”By the way. . . I uh-well the battle was quite a blur, but I remember Ogren saving me more than once, thank you Ogren. I’m sorry I didn’t says something in the heat of battle.”
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Jaxon looks over the crates and the furniture inside. "Hey, I heard once about people building..." He slides open a drawer and knocks on it, then knocks on the bottom of the drawer from the underside. "Yep. This is a false bottom. I think all of these have secret compartments for hiding things during shipping. That's how they're getting things into the city."
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With Ilmyrn's information, Alaric's corpse-dragging, and the papers Jaxon found hiding in the false-bottom - you wonder if Jaxon was a smuggler before being sent to prison? - you have found a good deal of information.
The two open doors still have unexplored rooms behind.
What is in there?
A couple more, sturdier, Nexian fleshforged?
Spoils or war?
Rotten wood?
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Jaxon moves to the aft room, and sees that this was the map room.
The cabin’s floor has been cleared of the algae present everywhere else on the ship, and a simple table has been set up in the center of the room, with a few chairs pulled up around it.
The aft wall bears a large carving of a coat of arms, visible even despite the wear of the elements.
An antique lantern hangs above the carving, casting a faint light over papers strewn across the table.
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Looking at the papers--
• the first is a bundle of writs of inspection approving the cargo crates for export from the Nexian capital of Quantium
• the other is a series of financial records, including notes of sizeable sums paid to the same individual whose name appears on the writs — a clear indication of bribery, and of interest to Gorm Greathammer.
As Alaric holds the lantern, he sees that it is in fact an everburning torch.
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Samna points to the records, and knows that this will be good for the mission Gorm Greathammer gave you.
You remember that he was interested in any information you can find about the smugglers’ methods - which you found - but also that the smugglers' books are valuable enough that he doubts they’d be left lying around... but now you can prove him wrong: you managed to find them!
Following Jaxon, you take a look at the front-side of the ship, to that last room.
This turns out to be where the crew bunks.
In stark contrast to the rest of the ship, this cabin has also been somewhat cleared of algae and cleaned.
Six simple beds, complete with fresh linens, are crammed into the space. A few small footlockers are shoved under some of the beds.
It seems the smugglers set up this simple sleeping area for nights they spend on the boat.
But it is obvious they haven’t been here since in a while.
You imagine that something went wrong, maybe the construct broke free when it was being smuggled in and had the criminals run?
You look around, but the footlockers hold simple clothing and personal effects. Nothing fancy, or personal, at all.
The only thing you find, is that a smuggler left a pair of nice looking alabaster pendants rolled up in a smelly, salt-crusted rag.
Alaric detects that they are magic.
From outside, you hear the captain calling out: "Everything good in there? Need some help?
Or ready to head on back?"
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"I've seen a few drawings of similar pendants before, but without the ability to dicern magical auras myself . . . I'm not comfortable guessing at which ones these are."
Ilmyrn limps back topside and shouts out to the boat captain.
"There was a . . . uh . . . construct guarding the ship. We damaged it beyond repair. We're bringing up some evidence of smugglers now and then we will be ready to go back."
Ilmyrn will help load the boat up with the evidence as best he can with his injuries.
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Ogren looks over the dead stitched man and as everyone starts to move on and explore the ship, he looks up, "Can I make sure he, she... they get a proper funeral? They looked like they had some sentience. and I feel bad we didn't get to talk this out first." He lugs the body up to the top deck.
He takes his time doing prayers and prepping the body, before everyone is quite ready to go, he calls down below, "Everyone, the ceremony is ready! Com'on up!" As he does, he holds a giant ball of sea sludge at the top of the stairs and drops it on the first person to start up with a "Remember, always look up!"
He gives a short ceremony before hurling the body off the ship for a burial at sea. After a few moments he reaches over again and soothes some of Ilmryn's wounds... with his still sea sludge covered hands.
On the trip back he takes his time praying and gazing at the horizon of the sea, healing Ilmryn first and then himself.
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On the pier, Ogren's eyes go wide as Ilmryn talks about Samna possibly being a monk. "Wait, Samna, ARE you a monk? Can you fly? I met flying monks in Kraggodan once! They were SOOOOO COOL! From Jal... Jam-array or something like that. Can you do that too? CAN YOU TEACH ME?"
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"Ah, I see. Apologies then. It's just . . . your fighting style reminded me of the brothers. I uh, I grew up in a Library-Monastary under Kaer-Maga. The monks there tried to teach me their ways but . . . well I never really 'got it.' I was always much better with the temple swords. Never did learn how to fight without armor too well."
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As Ogren finishes the ceremony, and wants to hurl the body off the ship for a burial at sea, some discussion arises as to what to do, since the first choice was to take the body back to the Grand Lodge.
Ogren prepares the body and sets it in repose, but instead starts to lower it into the ship for the trip back to port. They'd have to get a plot of land, a coffin and some marker as well as hold a small ceremony later (or maybe just go for the burial at sea...) but he'd get it organized.
On the docks, he looks a bit crestfallen at Samna denying she's a monk... the little goblin does perk up at the mention of a brother of Ilmryn's though. "OOOOHHH, does this brother of yours know how to fly without wings? Could he teach me?"
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As Ogren finishes the ceremony, and wants to hurl the body off the ship for a burial at sea, some discussion arises as to what to do, since the first choice was to take the body back to the Grand Lodge.Ogren prepares the body and sets it in repose, but instead starts to lower it into the ship for the trip back to port. They'd have to get a plot of land, a coffin and some marker as well as hold a small ceremony later (or maybe just go for the burial at sea...) but he'd get it organized.
On the docks, he looks a bit crestfallen at Samna denying she's a monk... the little goblin does perk up at the mention of a brother of Ilmryn's though. "OOOOHHH, does this brother of yours know how to fly without wings? Could he teach me?"
Ilmryn looks down at the ground, suddenly very sullen.
"He uh, no. He died a while back. A vile necromancer and his managre of freaks took over the monastery. Some of the monks managed to get my mother and myself out but . . . well Brother Henderson and a few others stood against them. None of the order of the seal survived." He looks up though. "But I did hear that damned necromancer got what was coming to him. A short time later a group of Adventurers . . . I guess they were pathfinders or . . . psuedo-pathfinders, they re-took the monastery and killed that fiend. When I heard about that, I decided to join . . . this." he gestures to the pathfinders around him.
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Ogren's eyes seem to grow as tears well up in them. He rushes over and grabs Ilmryn's leg in a tight hug, which proves a bit painful from the plate metal the goblin wears. "THAT'S terrible! Losing your brother like that! I'm sorry I brought it up. But I'm glad you're here now! It's okay to cry if you want to!"
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Ilmryn tries to push the Goblin down. He doesn't fight him off so much as try to get him to the point where blood is circulating in his leg.
"No, he' . . . he wasn't my REAL brother, he was a brother of the seal-look, he was a monk okay? They call themselves brothers but they aren't related. He was . . . he was more like a mentor or teacher." he goes back to being a bit sullen. "Still, yes, loosing him was pretty painful. But hey, I'm glad it brought me to the pathfinders too."
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Ilmryn tries to push the Goblin down. He doesn't fight him off so much as try to get him to the point where blood is circulating in his leg.
"No, he' . . . he wasn't my REAL brother, he was a brother of the seal-look, he was a monk okay? They call themselves brothers but they aren't related. He was . . . he was more like a mentor or teacher." he goes back to being a bit sullen. "Still, yes, loosing him was pretty painful. But hey, I'm glad it brought me to the pathfinders too."
Ogren gives one last squeeze, nearly cutting into the leg with the edges of his armor before backing off a little. "Oh, I see. But still that's terrible. I'm sorry you lost him, but I hope he's doing monk-ish things wherever he ended up on the Outer Planes."
After a few somber moments, the goblin springs up, "Right, Stitches will get looked at by a professional and then buried in a week, or that's what I was told would be likely! Ilmryn needs a pick me up... Shall we head to the mansion then? Nothing like a good scare to fight off grief... That's a common saying right?"
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Having rested and healed up, and talked about body disposal - you see the captain of your little ship nod and shake her head now and then, maybe knowing about such matters herself! - you go by the Grand Lodge to drop "stitches" off, with all the other elements taken from the wreck.
Gorm Greathammer being busy at the moment, all will be handed over to him, along with your report. But it seems hr should be happy, since you did everything that was asked for.
Then, in the evening, you head off towards the Blakros Museum.
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You arrive at the museum as scheduled, just after hours.
The place is a solid block of volcanic stone, and the front door leading into the basalt structure is closed-- but unlocked.
No answer to your knocking-- but you just open up and enter.
Security does seem quite relaxed non-existent.
Calling out gets you no answer.
So you wander around the ground floor a bit-- finally stumbling a single staff member, Chayron, armed with a broom, the man is cleaning the museum.
"Hello, hello, are you here to help me perform maintenance on the exhibits? We have to dust the gelatinous cubes."
He points to an empty looking display.
Rapidly realizing you are not hired help, at least not for him, he sighs and looks at you:
"Err... who are you?! I am the doorkeeper. I am keeping the place safe for Tavvar and her assistants. Please identify yourselves and states if you have business here! Only Pathfinders may enter the place."
And he waves his broom around, trying to be menacing.
"Are you Pathfinders? Do you know a Pathfinder? Do you want to be Pathfinders?"